American Zombie Detective

Chapter 240 The Strange Things in the Rainstorm

The gangsters had just put down their spoons when Yun Conglong slowly stood up.

He didn't make a fuss or even glance at the plate; he simply picked it up and walked over to the nearest prison guard.

Everyone strained their ears, eager to hear what this pushover had to say, but Yun Conglong said nothing. The prison guards simply led him to the other end of the cafeteria, where Bill, the veteran supervisor of the West District, was leaning against the wall like a mountain king, holding a cup of coffee and overseeing the situation.

Yun Conglong said a few words to Bill.

Bill's weathered face remained expressionless; he simply nodded and then gestured with his chin toward the tattooed man from before.

Immediately, two burly prison guards walked over and, without saying a word, lifted the tattooed man who was still holding the salmon up from the left and right.

"WTF? What are you doing, Team Leader Bill? I didn't do anything!"

The tattooed man was stunned and screamed in panic.

Bill finished his coffee in a low voice, loud enough for several people at nearby tables to hear: "Stealing food from a fellow inmate, a violation of discipline. Take him away and put him in solitary confinement in the cave for three days."

There was no explanation, no procedure, not even a single extra word.

The tattooed man turned deathly pale like a chicken being choked, and was dragged out of the cafeteria.

The entire cafeteria fell silent for a moment, save for the soft clinking of cutlery. Many people's gazes towards Yun Conglong changed.

Oh, so he's not an easy target after all, he's got connections? The prison guards were so quick to stand up for him, his background must be something special.

However, in a prison, connections alone are not enough; one must also be strong oneself.

Otherwise, at worst, no one will really mess with you, but want respect? Bullshit! They'll still bully you, just in a more civilized way.

Sure enough, less than two minutes later, another skeptical guy appeared.

He was a short, muscular man with a dark blue snake tattoo around his neck and a fierce face.

He suddenly placed his plate opposite Yun Conglong, plopped down, and said nothing. He simply scanned Yun Conglong up and down with a provocative and evaluative gaze, as if he were looking at a piece of meat waiting to be sold.

Yun Conglong ignored him and slowly ate his bread.

Just then, whoosh! Snap!

A hard bone flew from a distance and hit the short man's pumpkin-shaped head with a loud thud.

"Fuck! Which son of a bitch threw this away?!" The short man jumped up suddenly, clutching his head, and turned around angrily to find the culprit, cursing loudly.

Then, the sound of his cursing got stuck in his throat.

He saw Qin Jin leaning lazily back in his chair, looking at him indifferently, while Constantine grinned like a smug spectator.

"Any objections?" Constantin spoke first, his eyes full of provocation. "What? Can't I smash it?"

The short man's face twitched, his anger extinguished by a bucket of ice water, leaving only surprise and uncertainty.

He looked at Qin Jin, then at Yun Conglong, seemingly puzzled as to why these two ruthless individuals would stand up for this newcomer.

The surrounding prison guards also saw it, but unexpectedly, no one spoke up to stop Qin Jin and his group.

Just then, Qin Jin's voice rang out slowly, not loud, but clearly carried throughout the suddenly quiet area: "Don't provoke him."

Just that one sentence.

There were no threats, no harsh words.

But enough.

The entire area fell completely silent. The short man's face drained of all color. He stiffly turned around, silently picked up his plate, and didn't dare utter another sound. He slunk away to another corner.

Click. The prisoner serving food trembled, his spoon hitting the rim of the bucket. He silently noted it down:

Damn it, this new Chinese guy not only has connections with the prison guards, but he's also from the same hometown as those two newly appointed tyrants in the East District? From now on, his food rations absolutely cannot be skimped on; he has to get some good stuff!

Yun Conglong turned to look at Qin Jin and Constantine, and gave them a thank you gesture. Qin Jin nodded, while Constantine waved his hand in response, indicating that it was no problem.

"Clang!!! Crash!"

A loud crash suddenly came from the direction of the kitchen back window! It sounded like something huge had hit them hard; the sound of kitchen utensils hitting the floor even drowned out the noise from the dining room!

Almost simultaneously, a loud pattering sound erupted outside the window. Everyone looked up in horror to see large raindrops pounding against the window with almost violent force, densely packed and instantly forming a curtain of water, blurring the outside world in an instant.

The extreme rainstorms warned of on the radio have officially arrived in such a fierce manner.

This sudden turn of events interrupted everyone's thoughts. After a hasty meal, the prisoners were quickly herded back to their cells amidst the more impatient shouts of the guards.

After dinner, the freest time in the cell is from 7:30 to 9:30.

The prison guards basically didn't care; as long as a fight didn't break out, people could do whatever they wanted—chatting, reading, gambling, doing some indescribable handicrafts.

The air was filled with a relaxed yet restless atmosphere.

On the fourth floor, in Qin Jin's double room.

Next door, Yun Conglong's voice came from the doorway, his English still a bit rusty: "Qin! John! Thank you!"

Constantine chuckled: "No big deal! I just don't like that guy!"

Yun Conglong paused for a moment, seemingly curious: "You—you seem to hold very high positions, how did you manage to do that?"

He made a mistake here; he used "position" instead of "status".

Constantine opened his mouth, about to boast about his glorious achievements that morning, when Qin Jin's voice calmly interrupted. He spoke fluent English, just at a slower pace.

"Americans fall for that kind of thing; they bully the weak and fear the strong. Luckily, we know some martial arts, and after a few fights, no one dares to mess with us for now."

Yun Conglong let out an "Oh," the last syllable lingering, as if he had guessed something: "So that's how it is! Prison is pretty much the same as outside—"

Next, Constantine mainly chatted with Yun Conglong, rambling on about this and that, from the food to the work in the prison, and then mentioning the power distribution in the cells —

Qin Jin remained silent most of the time, as if he were resting or listening.

Time passed amidst the sound of the downpour and the intermittent conversation.

"Ding!" The piercing lights-out whistle rang out precisely on time.

The lights in the corridor snapped off, leaving only the dim nightlights at the entrance of each cell and the occasional flashes of lightning outside the windows.

After saying goodnight, the three of them went to sleep.

The cell was plunged into darkness and silence, with only the roar of the raging wind and rain outside the window, like some giant beast relentlessly crashing against this prison that was like an isolated island at sea.

The snoring inside the cell mingled with the thunder and rain outside, creating a cacophony like a broken symphony orchestra.

Qin Jin didn't sleep at all. In the darkness, he went through every word he had said to Yun Conglong that night in his mind, confirming again and again that he hadn't given anything away. All the content of the conversation perfectly matched the image of a third-generation immigrant who had lived in America for a long time and was brave and fierce. Even if his identity as a policeman was exposed later, it would still fit perfectly.

He breathed a slight sigh of relief, but his vigilance remained undiminished.

Although there is no evidence to confirm his identity as a successor of the Celestial Master, that does not prevent Qin Jin from killing him; the only thing to consider is the method of killing him.

I definitely can't do it myself!

Since he is a descendant of the Celestial Master, he must have many ways to protect himself. Taking action rashly would only expose himself and would not bring any benefit whatsoever. The best way is to use someone else to do the dirty work!

Qin Jin had already thought it through when he made his move today. The short guy's provocation was useless and would only increase Yun Conglong's wariness. It would be better to raise his own favorability so that if things came to a head, he could get Alessa to make the move while he launched a sneak attack from the side!

It sounds amazing!

Therefore, the principle remains unchanged: better to kill the innocent than let the guilty go free, but the methods must be more ruthless and leave no trace.

Tomorrow, I need to find a way to use the opportunity of going out to do odd jobs to see if I can find MS-13 or Butcher Ivan's people to cause a conflict with Yun Conglong. As long as I kill them, everything else will be fine.

Just as various plans were swirling in his mind, he suddenly jolted awake as if by instinct!

This feeling—isn't right!

The whole prison seemed too quiet!

The snoring, teeth grinding, and murmurs that once filled the cell—all vanished, leaving only a cold, utter silence, as still as a tomb.